


how did you get in (nobody's supposed to be here)

by pinkgrapefruit



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Allstars 3, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 22:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkgrapefruit/pseuds/pinkgrapefruit
Summary: She needed to breathe but she couldn't disturb the perfect shape of Dela’s lips in smudgy black.(or, trixie is an emotional mess and dela isn't helping)





	how did you get in (nobody's supposed to be here)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, this is a Trixie POV special filled with BenDeLaCreme and my favourite moment of allstars 3. If anyone gets the title reference, 10pts to you. You know the drill, as usual, all work is my own and although this is based on real people, both the characters and the story are my own interpretation and therefore fully fabricated. Enjoy!

_ ‘You guys win, I won, I love you.’ _

 

It had been three hours - at least she thought it had. She’d been sat in front of the mirrors staring at herself for so long that time had started to blur. She knew the queens were moving around her, packing the days baggage into boxes they’d file later under  _ episode 6, the gag of the season.  _ At least she wasn’t naive enough to believe that would be the only gag. She was too tired to be naive.

 

In the time it had taken for everyone to sort themselves out, she’d taken a deep-dive into her memories.

 

Ben had said goodbye to the other girls first. The knowledge that she had to say goodbye to Trixie was just too much to handle - but somehow, Trixie wished she hadn't bothered. Wished she hadn't had to feel the hot breath on her cheek as her heart was ripped out and painted in black lipstick on her face. She’d run the moment through her mind a thousand times, searching for the answers she wanted but all she had was ‘ _ i love you’. _

 

Stood under the runway lights she’d been grateful for her obscenely layered makeup, happy that it had hidden the fervent blush that had coated her from temples to the navel. Here though, she needed to breathe. She needed to breathe but she couldn't disturb the perfect shape of Dela’s lips in smudgy black. In an attempt to clear her mind she hesitantly started to de-drag. It was lazy, one step at a time. Wig. Shoes. Nylons. And then, with a heavy hand and an even heavier heart, she slowly dabbed at her cheek, watching the mark cover her flannel in an inky black.

 

As the eight other queens filed out and said their goodbyes, she sat there. Queens left for good and queens went to bed and still, she remained glued to her chair, unmoving. She stared at the small pile of Dela’s things. Pondered the inevitable return into the werkroom knowing that they couldn't keep her out for that long. Luckily for Trixie, she knew production like the back of her hand and it wasn't long before Ben walked back into the werkroom. He was out of drag, dark hair mussed from hours under a wig, skin still pale from the gothic makeup he’d applied so densely that morning. 

 

He met her eyes first. They were blue and watery and full of a thousand words left unsaid, but in the dimly lit sound stage that acted as a home-away-from-home - they couldn't find the vocabulary to share them. Instead, they just smiled softly and hoped that the cameras still searching for footage wouldn't catch the tenderness in their touches or the bittersweet longing laced between them.

 

About halfway through Ben's packing, Trixie left to go outside. The room was full of tension and she needed to escape. It was really just her luck that the source followed her out. In what she’d once offhandedly described as her ‘serial killer getup’, Trixie was cold as she loitered in the backlot. Despite it being mid-August, the nights were unusually cold and she could feel her bare legs trembling beneath her. Then again, that might have been Dela.

 

It didn't take long for the shorter queen to find her, leaning all her weight onto the railings outside the fire escape. It took even less time for the two to embrace, blending into each other like lipsticks on a summers day. Whilst Dela’s body held little resistance to the younger queens grasp, Trixie felt like a plastic doll, stiff within his hold. Ben stepped back nervously, suddenly aware of the tension that had seeped out of the werkroom with him.  _ ‘Trixie,’ _ he tried, his voice quiet and slow. Deliberate. When she refused to meet his gaze, he tried again.  _ ‘Brian.’ _

 

This was new, Trixie thought as she heard her name leave his lips. She wasn't used to the twang he put on the _ i _ sound. The stressed vowels. She liked it. 

 

With that, she raised her head, allowing her mouth to turn up into a content smile. Without warning, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back into her. His arms initially wrapped around her waist but after a second, twined themselves around her neck, having to reach a little to gain the height he needed. With one slightly rough tug, he pulled Trixie’s lips towards his own, mouths moving with the same passion that had driven him to win the first four episodes of the competition. Trixie couldn't help but smile into the kiss. It answered every question he had -  _ absolutely. _

 

Later, when the cameras were only on him, Ben would be asked who he was closest to in the competition. Who would he miss most? For the sake of television, he pondered their question, allowed it to wallow in his brain for a second. He was anxious not to come across as too eager but at the same time, there was only one name he could put forward. The only name that mattered to him, after long nights of talking. Weeks of crappy food and badly airconditioned stages. Drama and fights and emotions. The only name that he could keep straight in his stress-addled brain.

 

Easy, his brain supplied.  _ ‘Trixie’ _

 

*

 

It was easy to return. It was easy to pick the lipsticks. It was easy to watch her win. To watch her literally pull her hair out to win. And when the night had ended, when they’d all gone back to being men, it was easy to congratulate her.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! It's a little bit different than what I'm used to. if you've got any feedback/ constructive criticism you can catch me in the comments here or over on tumblr @pink-grapefruit-cafe. I love you all and your feedback truly motivates me to keep writing xx


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